


Zuzu's Petals

by twinsarein



Category: Smallville
Genre: Dark, First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-16
Updated: 2012-01-16
Packaged: 2017-10-29 15:35:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/321441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twinsarein/pseuds/twinsarein
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clark gets a look at what life would have been like if he’d never saved Lex on the bridge.  It opens his eyes about a lot of things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Zuzu's Petals

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ctbn60](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ctbn60/gifts).



> Written for the clexmas Christmas exchange. The prompter wanted more of the Ghost of Christmas Past from _A Christmas Carol,_ but this is more along the lines of _It’s a Wonderful Life_ and the title reflects that.
> 
> Lots of Spoilers - S5‘s Lexmas, a lot of S1, a little of S2, many other episodes in later seasons

[](http://s947.photobucket.com/albums/ad318/twinsarein3/?action=view&current=ZuzusPetals.jpg)

“Clark.”

At the sound of a woman’s soft voice calling his name, Clark looks around his parents’ kitchen where he’d come for just a moment of quiet during the party, but doesn’t see anyone.

“Clark.”

Switching to x-ray vision, Clark scans the room, but still can’t see anyone. “Who’s there?”

Going back to normal vision, Clark is glad no one else is around to see him jump when a woman appears, standing right in front of him. Wondering why she hadn’t shown up while he’d been in x-ray mode, Clark scans the area she’s in again, but it’s as though she isn’t even there. “Who _are_ you?”

“Don’t you recognize me, Clark? I know we’ve never met in person, but you’ve seen pictures of me back at the mansion.”

At the mention of Lex’s home, Clark stiffens and shoots her a sharp look. Staring at her, he sees a woman about his mother’s age in a purple shirt, with long, curly red hair, and porcelain skin. It’s the eyes that convince him, though. They’re the same shape and color as Lex’s eyes.

His own eyes widening in recognition, Clark stares at her in shock. Tentatively, he reaches out, only to have his hand pass right through her. “You’re Lillian Luthor! But, you’re...”

“Dead. Yes, I know, and I don’t have a lot of time. I made a serious error earlier tonight, and I need you to help my son.”

“Lex?” At the mention of his former friend, Clark feels his normal maelstrom of emotions, emotions that he’s never looked at too closely because of how uncomfortable they make him feel. However, the fact that he is being contacted by Lex’s _dead_ mother is impossible to ignore. “What’s wrong with Lex?”

Pushing her hair back, Lillian looks up at him, all but biting her lip in worry. “He was shot earlier--”

Panic surges through Clark, and he doesn’t even think when he interrupts her. “What? Where is he? Tell me so I can get to him.”

Lillian puts a hand out to him, but he can’t feel it at all, and it does nothing to ease his tension. “That isn’t why I’m here, Clark. He’s already gotten the help he needs, physically at least; he’s at the Davis Clinic in Metropolis right now and he’s woken up a couple of times since the surgery. Last I saw him, just a minute ago, he was standing by the window in his room.”

Relaxing somewhat, but still feeling wary, Clark looks down at her. “Then what are you doing here; what can I do to help Lex? And...what mistake did you make?”

Turning away from him, Lillian wraps her arms around herself and lets out a sigh. “I showed him a possible future. A future that could have been his, if he would start making different choices. The trouble is, there are so many possibilities, and I chose...selfishly. The future I showed him could have made him happy, after a fashion, but it wasn’t the best one.”

Taking a deep breath, Lillian turns back to face him, face set determinedly. “Most of his possible good futures are marred by some sort of tragedy, but I thought...other things would make up for it. I was wrong. There is one future, though, that isn’t marred, but only if you both have the courage to reach for it.”

Looking at her in consternation, Clark works hard to keep from shouting. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying? You think...you’ve seen...Lex and I...I don’t...I can’t even...”

Stumbling to a halt, Clark realizes he’s breathing harder, his heart is racing, and butterflies are racing around in his stomach. He knows his eyes must be as round as saucers, and he gulps and wets his dry lips, trying to get some control back.

“Clark...”

Lillian puts her intangible hand out again, but Clark isn’t having any of it as he stares down at her angrily. “No! Just...no. That can’t be right. We aren’t even friends any more. I...I don’t feel like _that_ for Lex.”

Even as he says it, though, he looks away from her, unable to meet her eyes. He knows Lex has always inspired strong feelings in him, but surely they’ve never gone in that direction. Just because sometimes at night he...no, that didn’t mean anything.

Lillian Luthor just doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Clark remembers what Lex had told him about her - that she was a little unbalanced at the end of her life. That’s what’s making her say such crazy things.

He opens his mouth to tell her, but she forestalls him. “Clark, I’d let you lie to yourself as much as you want, if my son’s future happiness wasn’t on the line. His very soul. I want him to have a good life and be happy more than almost anything. So, no lies between us. I’ve been watching my son for a long time, now, and consequently the people that are most important to him. You don’t need to--”

“You’ve got to be kidding me! You’ve been watching me, too? Is your whole family made up of stalkers?” Clark feels a surge of fear, which he covers with anger. “You’re watching me, Lionel’s been sniffing around my mom for years, and Lex had a whole freaking room about me...oh, excuse me - about him. Well, I’m done with the lot of you. This all started the day I saved Lex on that bridge. If I’d never done that I can only imagine how peaceful my life would be.”

Clark runs out of steam and stops shouting. Breathing hard in distress, Clark waits for Lillian to say something. When she just stands there staring at him, not moving a muscle, almost as though she’s in a trance, Clark begins to get uneasy. When he thinks of what he’d said in the heat of the moment, he cringes internally in shame. He’d basically told Lex’s mother that he wished he’d never saved her son’s life.

At that thought, the wind goes out of his sails, and suddenly he’s not angry any more. Before he can apologize, Lillian nods briskly and speaks. “So be it. Considering how much time you spend thinking and blaming yourself for the past, it’s only fitting that you go backwards, instead of forwards.”

Looking at her in confusion, Clark staggers as a sudden weakness surges through him. In confusion, he puts out a hand. He knows it won’t do any good, but he’s not used to feeling so weak he can barely stand. To his surprise, his hand lands on soft flesh. The weakness lessens, goes away almost completely, and Clark’s confusion changes to surprise. “What’s going on? Why can I suddenly feel you?”

Lillian looks at him with an expression Clark might almost interpret as sympathy. “I’ve shifted us a little. We are now in a possible reality. One that didn’t come to pass, since you saved my son. Because it’s an alternate reality, of sorts, I’m more tangible. Only to you, however, since we are from the same timeline. Other people, in this reality, won’t be able to see me.”

Looking around, Clark realizes he’s not in his parents’ kitchen, anymore. He’d been so distracted by how weak he’d been, that he hadn’t noticed. Something about the room they’re in makes him uneasy, but Clark figures he’s put up with this weirdness long enough. “That was a neat trick, getting me here, but alternate reality? Come on! This is just a room. A dark, depressing one, to be sure, but still just a room. I can’t believe I’ve fallen for this for so long. Who’s put you up to this? Chloe? Lois? I bet it’s both of them. Well, I’ve given them enough jollies for this Christmas; I’m out of here.”

“Don’t be obtuse, Clark. I know you play dumb sometimes, to throw people off of your secrets, but you are far from it. This room is very indicative in showcasing how things have changed, but I will admit, it’s hard to see why, at the moment. The same can’t be said for the rest of Smallville, however, and maybe that will do more to convince you.”

Clark crosses his arms over his chest and glares down at Lillian Luthor. “I’d love to see a Smallville without Lex’s influence - no one obsessed with finding out all the information I didn’t want to give freely, no one to conduct experiments with the meteor rocks, no one to play God in the town. It must be close to idyllic.”

Lillian doesn’t say a word. Instead, she takes his hand, and before Clark can blink, they are standing on the main street of a small town. It is no longer night, but a bright sunny day. “I thought you said we were going back in time. It looks like we’ve gone forward a few hours. You could have just done something to make me lose a few hours.”

Shaking her head, Lillian looks at him sadly. “I’m afraid not. It is Christmas day, only it’s 2002, a little over a year after my son was sent to Smallville to oversee the fertilizer plant. Only, in this reality, he never made it. You weren’t on the bridge that day to save him. Take a look around, Clark, and you’ll know I’m telling the truth.”

Ignoring the trepidation building in his chest, Clark does as he’s bid. Almost immediately, a gasp of dismay leaves his mouth. It does looks familiar, but it isn’t... Clark turns to Lillian almost imploringly. “This can’t be Smallville. If it’s Christmas, where are all the decorations? Why are so many stores boarded up? Fordman’s, the Savings and Loan, Frank’s Auto Repair, The Antique Shop, Nell’s flower shop - they’re all out of business? And, The Talon is still a movie theater? That isn’t right. Lana turned it into a coffee house years ago.”

Lillian turns to walk down the street. Frozen with disbelief, barely able to comprehend that this is the same vital, bustling town he loves so much, it takes Clark a moment to start after her.

As he hurries, he’s surprised to feel another surge of weakness, but he shakes it off as he catches up to her just as she begins to point out landmarks to him. “As much as you don’t want to believe it, I know you recognize these stores, this very street. As for The Talon, my son was the one to finance it, if you remember. Without him here to buy it from Nell Potter it was left to fall in on itself.”

Glad the weakness is gone, Clark determinedly keeps pace with Lillian, not even noticing when they leave the boarded up shops behind. “Poor Lana. She must have been devastated. She loved that old place, and worked so hard to keep it up.”

“Lana...had other things to worry about by the time Nell would have been putting the place on the market.”

Not liking the hesitation in her tone, Clark almost doesn’t want to ask. “What other things?

Coming to an abrupt stop, Lillian looks ahead and points. Following her finger, Clark sees the school area they’d apparently walked, but it looks nothing like the school he remembers.

The grounds are unkempt, trash is lying everywhere, and much of the school looks boarded off and locked down. “What happened to the school? Is it connected to what happened to the town?”

Nodding, Lillian looks at the building, instead of him. “Very much so. Two tragedies struck the town within a few months of each other. The first happened during the homecoming dance. A boy named Jeremy set off the school’s sprinkler system and sent a surge of electricity through the water. Many students were killed or injured, that day.”

Clark shakes his head in denial. “That isn’t right. I stopped Jeremy before he had a chance to do that. No one got hurt.”

Turning a hard look at him, Lillian tilts her head in challenge. “You weren’t able to do that, here. You were tied to a post in Riley field, and you weren’t found or released until the following day. You were almost dead, and even with Lana’s necklace taken off, it took you a while to recover.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Clark stares down at her defiantly. “That isn’t right, either. Lex found me, and untied me...”

Clark trails off, and looks at Lillian in dismay, while she nods her head in satisfaction. “Exactly. Lex. Who is dead in this reality, and was never there to get you down. And so over a dozen of your student body were killed in one awful moment, and many more were injured.”

Swallowing hard, Clark clenches a fist over his stomach, in a futile effort to contain the pain her words inflict. Opening his mouth to ask...something...he closes it again when he spots a slight figure walking past the entrance several yards away. “Lana?”

She doesn’t look up, but Clark hadn’t expected her to hear his shocked whisper. He can hardly believe this is the girl he’d grown up with. In spite of being of small stature, his Lana walks tall, has confidence in herself. This Lana is all hunched over, staring at her feet, as she scurries along. Even taking into account the difference in years, his Lana never walked or _looked_ like this.

Gone are the pinks his Lana loves to wear, stark brown taking their place, and gone, too, are her long locks of black hair. Instead this Lana is sporting an almost military haircut. What he can see of her swathed figure looks not just thin, but gaunt. Unable to resist, Clark runs toward her. “Lana!”

At his shout, Lana does look up. Her reaction makes Clark stop his headlong rush. Bending down, Lana scoops up a rock lining the path into the school, and hurls it at him. “Freak! How dare you show your face to me. Get away. Get away from me! Go back to your cage, where you belong.” Another rock finds its mark, and Clark is shocked at the pain it causes when it hits his hip, beyond the emotional pain of her attack.

Confused, and reeling from the attack, Clark backs away until he’s level with Lillian, again. “What... Why did Lana do that? What did I do? And her skin! It looked almost molted. What happened to her?”

In answer, Lillian holds out her hand again. Looking down at it in more trepidation than the last time she’d offered it, Clark takes a fortifying breath, and grabs hold. Only to find himself in front of the fertilizer plant. Or what is left of it.

The once large plant is now little more than a husk. Scorch marks and melted metal are everywhere. Still reeling from learning what had happened during homecoming, Clark’s voice is faint when he asks about the plant. “Why did you bring me here? What happened to this place, and what does it have to do with Lana? Is this the second tragedy that befell the school and the town?”

Lillian’s voice is soft but clear when she finally answers some of his questions. “A little over a year ago, the school decided to try a field trip to raise people’s spirits after the horrible disaster that struck during homecoming. However, a man named Earl Jenkins took them hostage in a effort to get the answers he needed. Lionel locked the plant down when a methane gas leak looked as though it might pose a serious danger to the town.”

Clark is shaking his head almost as soon as Lillian begins talking. “No, that isn’t how it happened. Lex...” Clark trails off as realization strikes a little faster, this time.

Nodding her head in silent acknowledgment of what Clark doesn’t say, Lillian continues. “Exactly. Lex wasn’t here to rescue everyone. Instead, the explosion happened, just as Lionel feared it would. You were able to grab a couple of your fellow students, and protect them from the fireball, but you weren’t able to protect them from the resultant radiation.”

When she pauses, Clark can only stare at her in horror, so she pushes on relentlessly. “Many more of your class died that day. You, and the two you grabbed were the only ones to survive. Since then, one has died and the other, Lana, is struggling with the dosage of radiation she got that day. Your secret wasn’t exactly exposed, but everyone knows you aren’t normal, now, and most of them hate you for surviving while so many others did not.”

Trembling violently, Clark puts a hand out on the building to steady himself. “Who...who...” Unable to continue speaking, Clark trails off.

Maybe taking sympathy on him, or maybe twisting the screw a little more, Lillian answers him. “Chloe was the one you saved that day, who didn’t survive. Her death was a painful one, but she didn’t turn on you as Lana did. She was your stalwart defender until the day she died.”

The building is no longer enough support to keep Clark on his feet. Tears streaming down his cheeks, he falls to his knees and bows his head.

“The school lost so many students through death, and a mass exodus of the population due to those deaths and the plant being shut down, that it has been turned into a shelter for those left who have no where else to go. When Nell left Smallville, Lana refused to go, wanting to be close to where her parents died when her time came, so she’s been living there for the last half year.”

Lillian’s voice is relentless, and Clark no longer wonders if it’s sympathy or twisting the screw. “She’s the last of your friends still alive. You already know about Chloe. Whitney died at the dance, and Pete died trying to stop Earl. Earl started shaking and shot him accidentally.”

“Stop. Please, stop.” Clark’s voice is little more than a weak whisper, especially with the way his breath is clogging his throat. He feels as though he’s going to throw up, and he can’t straighten up because his insides are clenched so tight.

Mercifully, Lillian hears him, and suddenly the only sound to be heard, is Clark’s labored breathing. “Take me home, Lillian. Please.”

Holding his breath, Clark releases it with a sigh of relief when he feels her touch on the top of his bent head. When he finally looks up, his smile of gratitude changes to one of horror when he sees not his family’s kitchen she’d found him in to begin with, but a mockery of his family farm - roof sagging, paint peeling, dead greenery all around. “Oh, God! What happened?”

Possibilities cascade through Clark’s mind. Lex tried hard to help Clark’s parents keep the farm - his produce orders, buying the mortgage - it’s hard to tell what might have been the missing thing to reduce his parents’ beautiful farm to this dilapidated husk of itself.

It’s strange that he hadn’t really thought about all the things Lex had tried to do for him and this town before. He’d focused on the obvious - the help with Lana, the grandiose gestures such as the fireworks, but Lex really had done so much more. Why hadn’t Clark ever noticed that before? “Please, Lillian. Tell me what’s happened to my parents - they’d never let the farm fall apart like this.”

A small amount of sympathy makes its way back into Lillian’s expression, and Clark braces himself for what he’s going to hear. It isn’t enough. “Your father was shot and killed by a man named Roger Nixon, during a tornado earlier this year. Then Nixon kidnapped you, hoping to be able to sell you to the highest bidder.”

Gasping and clutching his sides in pain with one arm, Clark bows his head almost to the ground and moans his distress. Fighting to make sense of everything Lillian Luthor is throwing at him and the emotions roiling in his gut, Clark grasps desperately at what he sees as a flaw in her tale of horror. “Nixon was only in town because of something Lex started. Without him, there was no reason for Nixon to be investigating me.”

Lillian’s look changes from sympathy to pity. “Clark, there was more going on concerning you than you were ever aware of at this point of time, or even what is a few years in the future, during your original timeline. You were the reason my husband was so set on acquiring the plant in Smallville, although he didn’t know exactly who you were, way back then. Just that you were coming. He figured it out, though, after what happened at the plant.”

Reeling with the information that his presence on Earth wasn’t as secret as he’d believed, Clark raises stricken eyes to Lillian. “And, my mom?”

He had to fight to get the words out past the constriction in his throat, but Lillian managed to hear him. “You mother was devastated by your father’s death, and even more by your subsequent disappearance. She knew she didn’t have the resources to find you, so she went to Lionel.”

A moan of distress works its way out of Clark’s throat, but Lillian talks right over it. “Unbeknownst to your mother, Lionel was the highest bidder Nixon sold you to; he wanted The Traveler under his thumb, and at his mercy. He’s a gambler, however, and took a chance on returning you to your mother. He hoped she’d come to him again, once she became aware of his ability to ‘protect’ you. Lionel Luthor can also be very charming and persuasive when he wants to be. Martha was desperate for a way to keep you safe, and she thought his power and money could do it.”

Clenching his hands into fists, Clark relishes the pain of his nails biting into his skin because it keeps him from totally losing it at the thought of his mother with Lionel Luthor. Even worse because she did it for him, not because it was something she wanted for herself. The novelty of pain, however, is it’s own distraction. Opening his hands, he see several crescent shapes on each palm filling with blood. He’s not sure if he wants to ask why he can be hurt in this reality, though, so he keeps his mouth shut.

It doesn’t do any good. He doesn’t hide his hands quickly enough, and Lillian sees the blood. “You’ve seen or heard what has befallen everyone important to you in this reality, but you haven’t asked about yourself. Allow me to fill you in.”

Clark starts to shake his head, as he’s pretty sure he doesn’t want to know, but it doesn’t stop her. “Lift your left pants leg.”

When Clark slowly does as she’s bid, he finally finds out why he’s felt weaker since he arrived here, and gets the explanation for why he was able to feel pain. A slim band of metal encases his ankle, and Clark can see the telltale traces of glowing, green kryptonite. “Your mother married Lionel to help keep you safe, and you keep quiet about what he does to you to keep her safe. I’ve been protecting you from the full effects, but my ability to do so is weakening.”

Whether it’s all the horrible things he’s learned which have befallen his friends, or kryptonite poisoning catching up to him, Clark suddenly feels dizzy, and he’s glad he’s already kneeling in the dirt. “Ex...ex...”

Unable to finish the word, Lillian still manages to guess what he’s trying to say. “Yes, experiments. If you lift your shirt, you’ll see some of his handiwork.”

Cautiously, Clark takes the hem of his shirt and slowly bunches it up under his arm. What he sees makes him moan in distress. Scars on top of scars mar the planes of his torso, concentrated mostly over his heart and his stomach. Arms going numb, Clark drops the shirt and takes a deep, shuddering breath.

Lillian continues to be relentless, however, and gives him no chance to get a breather. “Perhaps the room we arrived in will have more significance for you, now.”

With no more warning that that, he feels her touch on his head again, and they are back in that dark, dingy room. Trembling in reaction to everything he’s seen and learned, Clark takes a cautious look around.

At first, all he sees is a small, twin-sized bed, an open door in which he can see two shirts hanging. When he really starts to look, though, he sees the chains on the wall near where he is kneeling, blood obvious on the cuffs.

Clark is suddenly reminded of the space he’d found the good half of Lex, when Lex had been split into two parts. He realizes that’s exactly where he is - the basement of the mansion. “Is this...where I live, now?”

Clasping her hands in front of her, Lillian nods her head. “Yes, Clark. If you can call it living. You have, however, convinced your mother that it’s like your old Fortress of Solitude in the barn, only you’re much more emphatic over your need for privacy now, so she’s never been down here.

Any sounds you make, are blocked most effectively by the thick walls and the amount of space between this room and the upper floors. Lionel can do...whatever he wants to you down here, and no one ever knows. And, if he wants to conduct anything more scientific, then he has labs and scientists that are completely in his pocket.”

Almost numb, by this point, Clark’s eyes skitter from place to place, never landing long on any one spot. “Is this what Lana meant when she told me to go back to my cage? But, how could she know about it, if my own mother doesn’t.”

“I won’t go into all the details of how it came to pass, but Lana’s hatred of you became all consuming, so when she figured out your one big weakness, she took the information to Lionel. Obviously you aren’t kept in a cage, but she isn’t far wrong, and you do have a cage in Lionel’s labs.

My son isn’t perfect, Clark, but in your original reality he’s been raised exclusively by my husband for more than a decade. Think about that before you condemn him. Better yet, think about how well you would have fared, when after seven months with him, you’ve been reduced to this.”

Feeling the touch of her hand again, Clark looks up only to see himself in the floor-length mirror in his parents’ bedroom. He sees right away that he’s gone through many of the physical changes Lana has, too. Which, if he considers how long his body in this possible reality has been exposed to close contact with green kryptonite, makes sense.

He hasn’t lost any hair, but it’s flat and lifeless against his head, his cheeks are gaunt, and his clothes look as though they are two sizes too big, and yet he recognizes them as his own things.

The odd thought strikes him that he hadn’t even noticed that he wasn’t in the clothes he was wearing for Christmas just a little while ago. What he’s seeing, then, is what he’d be like if he’d lived through all that Mrs. Luthor had shown him.

“To be fair, Clark, you were already pretty broken when Lionel got his hands on you, and you have tried to be as true to what your father and mother taught you as possible, but you have still done things that the ‘you that is supposed to be’ never would have considered. After all, you’ve had no one to go to that would be willing to help you and your mother get free. The support you’d been used to receiving from your friends and loved ones, is completely gone.”

Clark knows she could go on, but mercifully, she doesn’t. Of course, he’s saying it all in his own head. Such as how Lex hadn’t had anyone to support him for years, and he’d still fought against what his father wanted, and managed to stay strong. How good he’d tried to be, and how hard he worked for the approval of at least Clark’s family. “I’ve seen enough; please take me back, back to the way things are supposed to be.”

Tensing at the touch of Lillian’s hand, Clark knows this time she’s done as he’s bid, even before he opens his eyes to confirm they are back in his parents’ kitchen. He can feel the strength returning to his limbs, as well as the clarity of mind that means the influence of the green kryptonite is gone.

The emotional turmoil is still there, however, and it’s making Clark anxious. Quickly, he scans his familiar home, and lets out a deep breath when he sees both his parents, as well as Lana and Chloe’s forms. He also looks at the condition of the house, and is relieved to see it in it’s usual lived-in, but beautiful condition. The anxiousness isn’t completely gone, however. “I have to...go do something, Mrs. Luthor. Will you wait here for me? I promise not to be more than a minute or two.”

Clark barely waits for her nod before he’s speeding off. His first stop is downtown Smallville. The cheery holiday decorations and the lack of boards on windows unclenches a little more of his anxiety.

On his rounds, he thinks of Lana and Lex. His thoughts moving at the same speed as his body, if not faster. With everything he’s learned, his emotions are in turmoil. All the feelings he’s suppressed about Lex are surfacing, and he’s not sure what to do about them.

He loves Lana, he knows he does, and he thinks he always will, but he has to wonder if he’s _in_ love with her, or if he ever was. She’s always represented an ideal for him, and made him feel as if he could have her affection, that he could be normal, have a normal life.

Holding her in his arms, in the snow, earlier had made him feel calm and happy. Calm is something he almost never feels when Lex is around. Lex always makes him feel challenged, both intellectually and emotionally. His company is stimulating, and Clark feels as though Lex’s presence is almost overwhelming. Not quite, though, nothing that Clark can’t handle, anyway. And, in the early days, nothing made him happier than being around Lex.

Clark makes sure to pass by the school and the plant. The plant had never been that important in his life before, although he knew it was important to the livelihoods of many Smallville residents, but his face stretches wide in a smile when he sees it intact. He’s even more glad to see the school, looking as wonderful as it had while he was still roaming its halls five days a week. After he passes the school, he shakes off the heavy thoughts. He needs to get back.

The only one he doesn’t get to physically check on is Pete, and he briefly considers running to Wichita to make sure he’s alright. However, he’d promised Lillian he wouldn’t be that long, and with everything else back to normal, he isn’t as worried about his childhood best friend. He’ll give him a call tomorrow...actually, later today...and wish him a Merry Christmas. They haven’t talked in way too long. Something else Clark needs to change.

Finally, he makes it back to Lillian. She’s still there, waiting for him, but she looks a little less visible than before. “Did you satisfy yourself that everything is the way its supposed to be?”

At Clark’s nod, Lillian gives him a small smile. “Good. I’m running out of time, but I hope what you’ve seen has helped open your eyes to the possibilities. That my son deserved to be saved on the bridge that day.”

Cringing at the edge in her voice, and looking shamefaced, Clark nods again. “I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean it, even at the time, and I’m sorry I said it.”

Nodding her forgiveness, Lillian’s face takes on a look of mild panic as she fades even more. “Clark!”

Knowing what she wants, Clark still struggles with himself. He wants to reassure her, but he doesn’t want to lie, either. “I can’t promise what will happen, but I’ll think about what you said, and what you showed me. And, I’ll go see him at the clinic, before the night is over.”

The last thing Clark sees as Lillian fades completely a way, is the relieved smile on her face, and he can see her mouth form the words, “Thank you.”

Running a hand nervously through his hair, Clark x-rays through the kitchen walls, and smiles at the good time everyone is having. No one has even missed him, yet, although he’s not sure how long he was actually gone.

Grabbing a pen and paper from beside the kitchen phone, he writes a note apologizing for leaving. He doesn’t tell them where he’s going, because there is no way he’d be able to make any of them understand why he has to go, but just the same, he doesn’t want anyone worrying about him.

Taking a fortifying breath, Clark goes out the back door, looks around at the new-fallen snow, and then up at the stars, shining so brightly in the now clear winter’s night. Turning towards the road, Clark slips into super-speed, and runs until he arrives at the still bustling streets of Metropolis. Then, he slows to normal speed, and heads to Davis Clinic. He promised he’d get there tonight, but he hadn’t said how fast, and he has a lot more to think about.

Honestly, though, the last thing he really wants to think about is all the horrible things he’d seen in that alternate world. He contemplates the fact that it might have been a set-up, somehow. And, while that is certainly a possibility, there is no denying the consequences of Lex’s absence.

Lex _had_ been the one to get him down from the cross, and while that act wasn’t heroic, it was good. Lex didn’t have to go into that corn field that night after spotting Jeremy. He could have just kept driving. If he had, though, Clark would have been stuck on the cross, and no one would have been around who could stop Jeremy. So, Lex is even more responsible for saving all those students than Clark, because he’d saved Clark, too. He hadn’t done it to impress anyone either, because no one had been around to see him, so he’d done it just because it felt like the right thing to do.

The plant, though, that had been both heroic and good, and all Lex. Lex had put his life at great risk to stop a tragic disaster. It had worked, too; he’d gotten everyone out, and no one died. Also, at least back then, Clark is convinced that Lex genuinely didn’t know about Level Three; that his father had kept him in the dark, for whatever reasons of his own.

For the first time in over a year, Clark also remembers how Lex had put his own livelihood and reputation on the line to save the plant from being closed by his father. That action hadn’t been necessary in the alternate timeline, since the plant was destroyed first, but in this reality, Clark remembers how Lex had worked himself to exhaustion to make sure no one lost their jobs. He’d just about bankrupted himself to do it, too. So, beyond helping individuals, he’d also been responsible for the survival of the community. Clark hadn’t really appreciated that at the time - what exactly it would have meant to Smallville, if Lionel had gotten his way.

Reaching the hospital, Clark knows he’ll have to find Lex the hard way. As important as Lex is, his privacy would be closely guarded. So, instead of just asking at the desk, Clark begins to scan floor by floor, and room by room.

Considering it had been a gun shot wound, and he’d required surgery, Clark starts on the lower floors, and to protect people’s privacy, he searches for a familiar skeleton. Of course, Lex had to be on one of the higher floors, so it takes Clark a while to locate him. Once he does, he heads for the stairwell, and takes the flights at super-speed.

Keeping an eye out for anyone who might want to stop him, Clark starts heading for Lex’s room. While he does, he keeps going over everything he’d learned, and what it had revealed of Lex’s character. Nixon...he had been a huge mistake on Lex’s part, and he never should have called him in. However, he also tried to fix that mistake and get Nixon to go away.

The fact that Lex had killed someone that night, has always been something that Clark had felt guilty about. At first, it was because he remembers how stricken Lex looked after it had happened, and Clark couldn’t help blaming himself, wishing he could have been stronger, to prevent Lex from knowing that kind of pain. Then, later, after everything had started to go wrong, he’d felt guilty, wondering if that had been Lex’s first step into evil.

Clark’s feelings aside, however, the events around Nixon still showcased Lex’s goodness. Bad people, evil people, wouldn’t care about rectifying mistakes. Only someone with a conscience would even try.

Finally reaching Lex’s room, Clark looks in and sees Lex lying under the sheets, fast asleep. Opening the door quietly, Clark grabs a chair and settles next to Lex’s bed. Clark stares at Lex’s face, as if that alone has the power to clear up his confusion and doubts.

Sighing deeply, but quietly, Clark puts an elbow on the side of the bed and plants his chin into his hand. Staring at Lex, Clark wonders about goodness and people. He thinks about his friends, and the mistakes they’d made, that he’d forgiven them for, and he’d never once considered them to be bad people. Just good people that had made bad choices.

He hasn’t been perfect in his own life, either. During the awful year he’d turned sixteen, he’d made a series of bad calls - beginning with blowing up the spaceship, and culminating in putting on that ring to run away from his problems, instead of facing up to them. On the way, he had insulted or hurt, or both, almost everyone he cared about. Yet, they’d all forgiven him, in the end.

Putting on that ring had been a completely selfish choice, and he’d committed many awful acts under it’s influence. He can’t use that as an excuse, though. He’d made the choice to put it on, knowing full well what it would change him into. And, yet, even after all that, he didn’t consider himself to be a bad person.

So why were his standards for Lex so high? Why couldn’t he forgive Lex’s mistakes as easily as everyone else’s? Pressing down on the mattress just slightly, Clark slides a hand under one of Lex’s lying on top of the blankets. Grasping it lightly, Clark rubs a thumb along the edge of the palm.

At his actions, a tingle works through him, and Clark’s breath hitches a little in surprise. Lillian had been right, he has been lying to himself. From the first moment he’d seen Lex, just milliseconds shy of being hit by his car, Clark has felt a connection to Lex. One that scared him with its intensity.

Therefore, he’d buried those feelings under the guise of friendship, and when that had stopped working, he’d started to look for reasons to distrust and hate Lex, so he still wouldn’t have to face them. After that, for whatever reason, Lex had imploded. Clark doesn’t know if it had been because of him or if there had been another cause, but he’d bet he was at least partially responsible.

Of course, he’s still scared. No one brings his emotions so much to the surface the way Lex always has. He’s never felt so intensely about anyone, before. But if it’s a choice between continuing to bury his face in the sand and having Lex have a miserable life, or facing up to his feelings and both of them finding their way in a life together, then...

Lex’s hand twitches in Clark’s grasp, and Clark glances down at it, and then hurriedly up to Lex’s face. Two blue-gray eyes look back at him. “Clark? What are you doing here?”

Clark’s mouth opens, but he suddenly realizes that he has no idea what to say. He’d spent so much time thinking about what he’d seen, and what it meant to him, that he hadn’t made any plans about what the next step would be. Clark’s lips twist wryly, when he figures that’s what Lillian had meant about him being more comfortable in the past.

With all the other changes Clark is resolving to make in his life, learning to live for the future needs to become one of those at the top of the list. “Clark? Are you going to answer my question or just sit there playing with my hand? And while I’m thinking of it, why _are_ you holding my hand?”

Gasping a bit in surprise as Lex’s sharp voice penetrates his thought, Clark looks down at his hands in surprise. Sure enough, he’s not only holding Lex’s hand with one of his, but he’s caressing it with his free hand, as well. Running the tip of one finger down the length of each of Lex’s, then rubbing into each valley before starting up the side of the next one.

Pulling his hands back reluctantly, and unsure what to say about it, Clark goes with the more obvious. “I’m sorry you got hurt yesterday, Lex. Even more, that I wasn’t there to stop it.”

Lex shoots a penetrating glare in his direction, and Clark fights not to squirm under its intensity. “I have a hard time believing that you’d be unduly upset at my untimely demise.”

“What?” In spite of saying something similar in anger to Lillian earlier, Clark still feels a clenching in his gut at the thought of Lex dying, and it has nothing to do with what he’d learned about alternate possibilities. “No! I don’t...I wouldn’t want...”

Unsure how much of his previous thoughts to reveal, Clark wasn’t sure how to finish that thought. “Just no, Lex.”

A look of uncertainty at Clark’s vehemence crosses Lex’s face, but he smooths it out quickly. “So, you’re back to wanting to save me, then. Is that it?”

“No, that isn’t it, either.” Running a hand through his hair in frustration at not being able to find the right words, Clark thinks about what he’d just said and his eyes widen in alarm. “I mean, I’ll always want to be able to keep you safe, Lex, but I realized today you don’t need saving. You did that all on your own for so long, and I don’t think I or anyone else could have done a better job with everything you had working against you.”

Pausing from his torrent of words, Clark really looks at Lex, and sees Lex looking back at him, an expression of shock in his eyes. Clark slows down and softens his tone. “No, you don’t need me to save you. I know you can do it yourself; I just want the chance to be there to support you, to let you know someone believes in you. That’s something I was too young and scared to really do before.”

Wanting Lex to be able to see his sincerity, Clark keeps his eyes on Lex’s face. Lex, on the other hand, has smoothed his expression into an inscrutable mask. “Pretty words, Clark, but you’ve always talked up a good game, and you’ve become a much better liar in the last year or two. Besides, what makes you think I’m interested in saving myself, anymore?”

Not wanting to loom or seem as if he’s trying to be intimidating, Clark stays in his chair. It’s hard, though, because he wants to get closer. “I’m pretty sure I met the real Santa Claus, tonight, and a ghost, so at this point, I’m fairly sure anything I believe in is going to come true. And I do believe in you. Whether you want me to or not.”

Butterflies dancing in his stomach, Clark takes a deep breath and finally gets out of his chair, leaning over Lex as he does so. “Also, I might have gotten better at lying with words, but I’ve never gotten the hang of lying with my actions.”

A slight widening of Lex’s eyes is the only reaction Clark gets when he first gets up and leans over him, a hand planted on either side of Lex’s head. Clark doesn’t give him the time to do anything more before he finishes closing the distance between them and presses their lips together.

Keeping the kiss simple, Clark does little more than rub his lips against Lex’s mouth. Lex tenses up under him, but he doesn’t pull away, and Clark breath hitches, and then sighs out with that realization.

Clark isn’t sure how long he keeps their mouths moving together, but he finally feels Lex’s lips soften under his, and Lex’s head tilts to make the angle a little better. Clark has to work hard at not deepening the kiss at that point. Instead he keeps it light for a little while longer, enjoying the smooth texture of Lex’s lips, marred only by a small bump on the top one.

Remembering the scar that causes the bump, Clark nuzzles into that spot a little more, wanting to find out about all the pieces of Lex he missed out on or ignored int he past, before reluctantly pulling back. He doesn’t move far, just a few inches, and he opens his eyes to see Lex’s blazing up at him.

Breathing faster in desire for more sweet contact such as that, Clark moistens his lips with the tip of his tongue. “That wasn’t any kind of lie, Lex. I want another chance with you. A chance to be a true, equal friend to you this time, and maybe, hopefully, even more than friends.”

Lex doesn’t answer right away, just stares at Clark with glittery eyes in his expressionless face. After more than a minute of silence, Clark bites his bottom lip and makes a move to stand, figuring the silence is Lex’s answer. The taste of failure is bitter on his tongue, but he determines that he won’t give up as easily this time. That had been one of his many mistakes, before.

A small movement catches his eye, though, and Clark stops. Lex is only reaching for his phone, but he still hasn’t dropped his gaze from Clark, so Clark stops his movement to leave, to see what Lex is up to.

Bringing his phone up to his face, Lex hits a series of buttons, and then puts the phone to his ear, while still not lowering his gaze. “Griff? This is Lex Luthor. I’ve changed my mind and am calling it off.”

Lex lowers the phone, thumbing it off as he does. Clark looks at it, and then back at Lex, hope starting to rise in his chest, again. “What was that all about?”

Keeping hold of his phone, Lex folds his hands over his abdomen. “That was my answer.”

Hardly daring to breathe, Clark looks at Lex, holding his bottom lip between his teeth anxiously.

“Yes.”

A huge smile breaks across Clark’s face, and he surges forward to hug Lex as best, and gently, as he can. As he does so, he feels a soft exhalation stir the hair at the back of his neck. When he looks over his shoulder, however, no one is there.

Remembering his resolution to not look back anymore, Clark turns back around to face his future.


End file.
